Scare Away the Dark
by piper maru duchovny
Summary: Sara is not the only one who got her heartbroken with that phone call. - S13 GSR AU.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm a sucker for Sara and Grissom have a child no one knows about fics. I'm a bigger sucker for writing them. Going to be honest, this one might not have a happy GSR ending. We'll see. For now, it's more the story of Sara and her daughter as they navigate a post s13 world. **

**For Amelia, my aim is true. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Not yours. Definitely Bruckheimer's. **

* * *

_Love without fear in your heart,  
feel, feel like you still have a choice...  
-_Passenger's Scare Away the Dark_  
_

* * *

The call from Paris came while she was cutting class and smoking her first cigarette – she figured the content of that call was her punishment. Nova Elizabeth Grissom at fourteen hates plenty of things; mornings, when her grandmother lets the coffee canister empty, paint that dries before she has a chance to use it up, her mother's face when she failed her first class, and now Nova hates her father. Shirking his parental duties once more, he left her grandmother to explain that he's divorced her mother, things just aren't working anymore and he has apparently done all he can.

"I'm going to Vegas," the teenager signs to her grandmother; it's not a plea, a request, but rather a command. She'd hitchhike or walk if there was no other choice but the fires of hell could not keep her from her mother at that very moment.

Surprisingly, her grandmother acquiesced with little fight. The petite woman just pulled her in for a tight hug and kissed her head before pulling away to sign. "Go pack a bag, my star. I'll book you a flight."

"Thank you," she breathed as she replied.

A quick kiss to her grandmother's cheek and then she turned on the heel of her sneaker to race up the stairs to her bedroom; she passed the pictures that littered the stairway, photos of her father that her grandmother always pointed to when telling her that she looked just like him – at the top step, she pettily kicked one over and barely resisted the urge to stomp on it. She threw open the door to her room and plucked her duffel bag from the closet before ripping open her dresser drawers to throw in an assortment of clothing. She wasn't sure how long she'd be staying in Las Vegas, forever if she had her way, but she packed just what she needed to get by for a few days.

She angrily brushed the blond waves from her face as she closed the top drawer and spotted the family photo sitting on top. It had been taken in Paris, just after the wedding, and she'd been so happy that her parents had finally worked things out. They had never been an ordinary family; given the nature of their jobs, Nova had been left in the care of her grandmother shortly before her mother moved to Nevada to work with her father and there she had remained, patiently waiting. Everything was supposed to finally work itself out; they were staying in Paris while her father taught and her mother did research, Nova (as brilliant as her parents before her) was staying with her grandmother until she finished up high school within the next year and then they could finally be together, the three of them. For once. It was all supposed to work out.

Nova clutched the picture to her chest and fell to the floor as she cried. None of it was fair. She hadn't always hated her father, in fact before that fateful phone call, he had been her favored parent. Not to say she didn't love her mother, she did with an unparalleled ferocity but her father had understood her in a way no one else quite did. She was his clone after all, that's what her grandmother said. Her curly blond hair and piercing blue eyes had been traits of his, a stark contrast to the dark hair and eyes of her mother. She'd inherited his passion for nature and his penchant for migraines. But he had promised her. He had promised they would be a family and he hadn't kept his word.

The vibration of her cellphone in her pocket pulled her from the sobs that shook her entire being and she pulled it from the confines of her cargo pants before frowning at her father's face. She wanted to neglect the call, anger bursting from every atom of which she was composed, but a part of her was also hoping it was a big joke.

"What," she asked.

A long silence and then a sigh was her answer. "You've spoke with your grandmother then."

"Yeah." She didn't want to give him an inch of ground to stand on.

"Nova..." She could see him in her mind; hunched over his desk, glasses cast to one side, wiry silver hair sticking in all directions, and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose – the way he always looked when he was exasperated.

"Do you believe in cosmic punishment?"

"Like karma?"

She huffed. "Yeah. Like karma."

"No."

"I do." Raking her long piano fingers through her hair, she cast the photo to one side and sat up to pull her knees to her chest. "I cut class for the first time ever today, smoked a cigarette with this cute guy in my class, because I'm fourteen and a junior in high school and I've never done anything truly bad in my life. Then I come home and my grandmother tells me that my parents are divorcing."

"I had hoped you could be a grown up about this," he began.

She cut him off. "Dad, I may be just three points shy of you when it comes to an IQ but I'm still very much a kid."

"Your mother and I-"

"I don't care," she told him. "I'm going to Vegas, Grandma – who is my legal guardian, not you – has already said it was okay. I'm going to stay with mom."

"Nova," he tried once more. "This isn't about taking sides."

"You promised me," she cried. "You promised that I just had to make it to graduation and then we could be a family! I didn't have to be a secret anymore. We could all be together. You promised! You promised me! Daddy."

"Honey," his voice cracked. "I'm sorry. I'm... I'm just sorry."

"Yeah. Me too." Wiping her tears on the inside of her t-shirt, she sniffled. "I've got to pack."

"Okay," her father relented. "I love you."

"I..." Her voice caught; she remembered the call, her mother nearly dying and how she'd almost not gotten a chance to let her know how she felt. "I love you too. I'm really mad at you right now and I don't want to talk anymore but I love you still."

Nova hung up the phone and stood, wiping at her face with the back of her hands before zipping up her duffel. She grabbed the book she was reading from her bedside table and her sketch pad and charcoals from her desk, stuffing them in her book bag alongside her homework before sliding her laptop into the special compartment in her bag.

The taste of nicotine lingered on her tongue when she carried her bags down the stairs; she placed them by the front door and then went to the kitchen to grab the extra smoothie she had made before school, sipping at it in spite of the churning in her stomach. A hand on her shoulder caused her to turn and she smiled down at her grandmother before stepping into the hug that she offered.

Her flight left just shy of five pm and gave them just enough time to get from their small bungalow into San Francisco, to the airport. Because she was a minor, her grandmother was allowed to accompany her to the gate and they hugged tightly for a long moment before she was permitted to board with the first wave of passengers. Nova took a seat toward the front of the plane, next to a window, and tucked her backpack under the seat before pulling her phone from her pocket to turn it off for the flight when she found a message waiting from her mother.

"Betty messaged me. I'll meet you at the airport," Sara wrote. "I love you. I'm so sorry for all of this."

"I love you," she wrote back. "Flight leaving soon. It's not your fault."

The flight from San Francisco to Las Vegas wasn't a long one but it seemed to be drawn out for the fourteen year old as she fought to make herself as small as possible on the little seat she had been given. Flight attendants stopped to check on her at random intervals, she was the only minor on a relatively empty flight, but for the most part she stared out the window as the winter sun dipped lower and lower in the sky. When they finally landed at McCarran, she was allowed to collect her things and was escorted off the plane by a flight attendant.

Then there was her mother; Sara Sidle stood out in the thick crowds of people, her recently short having grown back out and darkened, twiddling her thumbs and rocking on her shoes as she scanned the crowd for her daughter. Nova turned to the attendant and offered a small smile. "That's my mom," she explained. "Thank you for helping me."

And then she was off; like she was little kid, she craved her mother's comfort and could not refrain from the dramatic sprint that occurred when her mother looked up at her with sad eyes and offered the smallest smile. "Mom," she cried as their bodies collided and she clung to her neck. "Mommy," her voice cracked. "I...I..."

"I know," Sara whispered as she wrapped her arms around her daughter, kissing her temple. "I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry. I should have been the one to call you."

"He didn't call me. He called grandma. Grandma is the one who told me."

"Dammit," her mother swore. "I'm sorry, Nova."

"He called afterward, after he knew she would have told me." She sniffled. "He's such a coward."

"Nova," the older woman sighed. "Don't talk bad about him, okay? He's still your dad."

"He's an ass," she countered. "Don't tell me you're not heartbroken right now."

"I am," Sara told her honestly.

"Well so am I," she agreed. "And I'm not forgiving him any time soon for breaking our hearts." She sighed and dove back into her mother's embrace. "We were supposed to be a family."

"I know." Sara kissed her head. "Let's go home, sweetheart."

"Okay."

They collected her bag from the carousel and then Sara draped an arm around her daughter's shoulders, tucking her into her side as they made their way into the hot Nevada heat to find the car. Nova relished her mother's touch; the girl had never been much for affection but with her world in upheaval, there was something comforting about the anchoring of her mother's arm around her as her fingers danced through the blond curls that fell in waves around Nova's shoulders.

"Mom," she asked quietly when she was tucked into the passenger seat and her mother was pulling from the space in the crowded car park. "Are you sad?"

"Very much so," she told her honestly. "How about you?"

"Dad said I should be more grown up about this," she explained. "I don't feel very grown up right now... I feel like I did when dad called to tell us that you were in the hospital after that psycho attacked you. I feel like my world is a snow globe and someone just gave it a real hard shake."

"I would say that those are very okay feelings right now," Sara promised. "You don't have to hold it together or be an adult about this, Nova. You can cry and be mad, if you need to. I know you're a very grown up fourteen year old and that soon none of us will be able to tell you what to do... but you're still a kid, still my baby, and you can cry and be upset right now."

"Okay," she sniffled. "I cut class today... And smoked a cigarette. With Mike Dawson. Do you think this is some sort of karmic retribution for that?"

"I don't think the universe would ever punish a teenager for being a teenager," Sara told her, reaching over to rub away the tears that fell from her baby's blue eyes. "Though I would appreciate it if you never did anything like that again, the universe isn't punishing you. Daddy and I just... drifted apart, I guess. Me being here and him being in Paris worked for awhile but it's just not anymore and neither of us are willing to give up doing what we love."

"What about who you love? Doesn't that trump the what?"

Sara sighed and shook her head. "You would think so but not this time, I'm afraid."

"I hate this," she told her, decidedly. "I don't want to think about it anymore tonight."

"Me either," she agreed. "What do you say tonight we just put this out of our heads, watch some old movies, and tackle everything else tomorrow."

"I'd say that sounds like a very good plan."

"Good." Sara pulled up in front of the house and parked before reaching over to wrap her daughter in another hug. "I'm glad you're here, Nova. I love you."

"I love you back, mom." She tucked into the embrace. "I'm glad I'm home."

"Me too," she promised her daughter. "Sorry it's not the home you were expecting."

"It doesn't matter. Home is still home and we're together – that's all that really matters."


	2. Chapter 2

**This one is pretty fluffy but I really wanted to set up a strong foundation for Nova and Sara. Hope you all enjoy. **

**Disclaimer: it's still not mine. **

* * *

_Give me love like never before,  
Cause lately I've been craving more,  
-_Ed Sheeran's_ Give Me Love;_

* * *

She emerged from the steam filled bathroom with hair wrapped in a towel atop her head and clad in pajamas that clung to her damp frame as she made her way out to the living room where her mother sat idly flipping through the channels. Nova perched on the arm of the couch as she unrolled the towel from around her head and began to squeegee the water from her thick blond locks as she halfheartedly paid attention to the TV, smiling when her mother settled on _The Princess Bride._ "Life is pain, highness," she quoted. "Anyone who says differently is selling something."

"Come here," Sara told her softly, reaching out to pull her off the couch and onto the floor between her feet. The mother grabbed her hairbrush that she kept on the end table for days when she was racing out the door after oversleeping and began to work her way through her daughter's tangled locks. "You remind me of Buttercup."

"Because I'm blond," the teenager asked, folding her legs under her and picking at the fraying edge of her plaid pajama pants.

Sara laughed. "Because you both have the same tenacity for life – refusing to do anything that doesn't suit you. I've always admired that about you."

"Are you working tonight," Nova asked quietly, hoping she hadn't come all the way just to be abandoned again.

"Not tonight," Sara told her. "Or the next few days. DB, the guy who took over for your dad after Cath left, gave me the rest of the week off. Told me to hangout with my kid."

"You told them about me," Nova asked as she turned around, ignoring the stinging of her scalp when her sudden movement caused the brush to rip through a tangle. "Dad... He said you couldn't."

"When he was my boss... It would have looked untoward," she explained as she carefully guided her daughter back into facing the TV, starting an intricate braid at the top of her damp head. "Ecklie probably would have thrown the hissy fit to end all hissy fits and we wouldn't have been able to work together. It was selfish of us. Keeping you a secret like you were something to be ashamed of. Because you're not, Nova. We're both immensely proud of you. And since daddy's retired and... and we're divorced. There's no reason for them to not know about you."

"Do... Will they like me?"

She kissed the crown of Nova's head as she secured the braid with a hair tie around her wrist. "The boys already love you on principle alone and once they get to know you... they'll probably love you even more than they love me. Fin and Morgan are excited to meet you as well but... Greg and Nick and Brass are family."

"I wish I could have met Warrick," she spoke softly. "Daddy talked about him a lot when he would call and I know it hurt you both a lot when he was killed.

"Warrick would have adored you," Sara promised, wrapping her arms around her daughter. "Maybe if his ex says it's okay... me or Nick can take you to meet Eli, Warrick's son. CSI kids. You two should know each other. Hell, if things had played out differently... You and Lindsey would have grown up together."

"Catherine's daughter."

"Yeah."

Nova sighed. "I used to get really jealous when daddy would talk about her."

"He and Catherine were best friends long before I ever came into the picture," Sara explained. "Lindsey's dad wasn't a good guy... He treated Cath and Lindsey pretty horribly from what I heard and so Grissom did what he could to be there for them."

"But he couldn't be there for us?"

Sara sighed. "Honey, he tried. And he will always be there for you, I know that. There is nothing on this planet that Gil Grissom loves as much as he loves you, Nova Elizabeth."

"But he's supposed to love you too," the fourteen year old protested. "We're supposed to be a family."

"I don't think... I don't think us separating has anything to do with how much we love each other," Sara told her. "And it's just as much my fault as it is his, honey. I'm the one who chose to come home and stay here."

"But he stopped working for it."

"Maybe we both did, I don't know. Maybe I'll figure it out someday." Sara sighed. "He loves me, honey. And I'll always love him too. We just... We just can't be together right now because we're hurting each other and we keep hurting each other the longer we stay together. We'll always be a family, we'll always be bound together through you, but right now... Gil and I can't be a couple without hurting each other and, believe me, honey, that would hurt you just as much as it would hurt us."

"Did your parents ever love each other?"

Sara exhaled slowly, so many questions from her inquisitive daughter. "I think they did... I think they both had issues that they should have gotten help for and when they didn't get help they turned toxic until they turned on each other completely. I don't want that for you. I don't want you to see us love each other so much that we start to hate each other."

"I understand." Nova sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Are you getting a migraine?"

"Mmm," the girl hummed her agreement and moved so she was laying on the couch with her head on her mother's lap. Sara silently undid the braid that she had just finished doing, raking her fingers through the curls gently undoing it as she used the pads of her fingers to massage her baby's scalp as the colors danced in the girl's eyes and she furrowed her brow in protest to the pain. "You're the only one who knows how to make them better," she whispered. "Even Gram can't do this right... she just has to give me a pill and let me sleep it off."

"Your dad taught me," Sara explained softly. "You were so little when you got your first one and you cried so much – it was the first Christmas you came to stay with us in Vegas and I was so scared that there was something really wrong with you. You were holding your head and throwing up and your dad just stepped in and showed me how to make it better."

"It works," she mumbled sleepily. "I hate taking the pills... They make my stomach churn and I sleep the whole day away when I take them. This works so much better."

"I'm glad." Sara bent and pressed a gentle kiss to her daughter's ear. "Do you get them a lot anymore?"

"Once a month or so," she explained. "Less since I got my reading glasses."

"Good."

Nova relaxed under the touch, tension releasing as she sunk into he couch and snuggled tightly into her mother's side. She had longed for this for so long, longed for her mother to chase away her demons; it was so rare that they got moments like that. "Don't usually snuggle."

"Your sensory issues are getting better," Sara explained. Nova had suffered from a mild case of sensory processing disorder since she was a child; she shied away from physical affection, only okay with deep touches and only when she was the initiator, and unable to handle crowded spaces due to all the noise that didn't quite filter through right. For a long time there had been certain clothing articles and textures that made the little girl want to cry but it had gotten easier with the help of early childhood intervention and time accompanied with reassurance.

"Mmm," Nova agreed. "I don't walk on my tiptoes anymore."

"So proud," Sara told her honestly. Guilt bit at her stomach, she should have already known those things but she'd turned the job of parenting her daughter over to her soon to be ex mother-in-law. "And you're going to graduate next fall?"

"Yeah," she whispered as Sara flicked off the TV so they were cloaked in darkness. "Winter finals mark the end of my junior year courses. I'll get my diploma at my next winter break. Three and a half years ahead of schedule."

"A year ahead of me," Sara told her. "I didn't walk until I was sixteen. You'll barely be fifteen."

"I'm sorry."

Sara laughed lightly. "Are you kidding me, kid? I'm so proud. My little genius. Have you thought about what you want to do after?"

"Been talkin' to grandma about taking a year off," she explained, sleepiness clinging to every word. "Wait until I have my license to start college – what's the point of going if I can't really take care of myself?"

"That's a good point and I think you've earned yourself a break." The brunette continued to card her fingers through the blond hair but slowed her movements. "Do you know where you want to go?"

"Grandma says Harvard or Oxford or something," Nova breathed. "I was looking at Pantheon-Sorbonne in Paris when I thought... But you know UNLV has some pretty good programs too? And I'm really still just a kid and if I... if I was living here then I wouldn't have to wait until I was sixteen to start."

Sara breathed in deeply. "Do you want to live here?"

"I want my mom," she mumbled as she clung to her leg. "When are you sending me home?"

"I'm not..." Sara breathed. "You could... you could live here if that's what you wanted. I can talk to Rose and your school and see what we can do about you finishing up here in Nevada. We could go check out UNLV – see if they have any programs you like. Or I'll move to Paris and you can go to Pantheon-Sorbonne or to England and you can go to Oxford or I'm totally okay with moving back to Boston so you can go to Harvard."

"But this is your home," she protested.

"You're my home, Nova," Sara told her honestly. "I am just so sorry it took me so long to realize that."

The girl smiled. "Can we talk about this when my head isn't making me want to cry?"

"Sure," Sara told her.

"But you can totally call grandma and talk about me finishing school here, if you want. That much is a yes."

Sara smiled big time. "Okay."

"I love you, mom." She sighed. "I'm glad I'm home."

"I love you, Nova," Sara promised. "I'm so glad to finally be able to bring you home."


	3. Chapter 3

**Apologies for the brevity and the lateness of this chapter, I've been battling a nasty case of bronchitis for weeks now. I just really wanted to get this up for you guys so I hope it's not too terrible. Please forgive any mistakes as it's 5:44 am my time and I'm awake and hacking my lungs up. Thank you all for your kind words so far. **

* * *

_How much does it cost,_  
_I'll buy it, _  
_The time is all we've lost,_  
_I'll try it,_  
_He can't even run his own life,_  
_I'll be damned if he'll run mine, Sunshine,_  
_Sunshine go away today,_  
_I don't feel much like dancin',_  
_Some man's gone, _  
_he's tried to run my life,_  
_he don't know what he's askin'_  
_-Jonathan Edwards' 'Sunshine'_

* * *

She wakes up to the brightness of Nevada desert sunshine pouring into her bedroom and she pulls the covers up over her head for several long moments before she slips from under the covers and stumbles her way over the blinds to close them. Days after migraines are always the worst for her senses and she feels overwhelmed by the world. Nova digs through her bag until she finds what she's looking for, the softest pair of pajamas that she owns. A quick shower and then she's clad in them, feeling slightly less overwhelmed by the world as she slides her ear buds in and thumbs her way through her iPod until she finds what she's looking for – the instrumental sounds of Mogwai coming out at a decibel too loud for most but it soothes the teenager.

Perching cross legged on the bed, she props a sketchbook on her knees and begins to draw. Living up to her name, Nova Grissom has a predilection for the sky. With charcoals her grandmother had gifted her for her birthday, she sketches the cosmos with only the occasional glance at her astronomy text book that she was glad she had brought along with her. She loses herself in the drawing, disappearing into the Andromeda galaxy as she tries to push as much detail into the art as she possibly can.

Her mother takes her by surprise when she pushes against her back in a hug from behind, arms wrapping tightly around her middle and a chin coming to rest on her shoulder in the firm touches that the oversensitized girl craves. Sara plucks an earbud from her daughter's ear. "Good morning fluorescent adolescent."

"Morning," she mumbles back as she drops the charcoal to silence the music but pushes the earbud back into hear to help mask the outside noise.

"The world is loud," Sara asks and Nova nods. "Between the migraine and all the excitement of yesterday that's probably to be expected so I thought we could just keep it low key today. Watch some movies, hangout, and maybe order some food because it has been way too long since I've been shopping."

"That sounds good," Nova agrees.

Sara reaches around her to grab the sketch pad. "Wow, kid. This is a far cry from those stick figures you used to draw on all my important papers."

"My grandmother is an artist," Nova replies with a shrug as she takes the sketchbook back from her mother and closes it before casting it toward the end of the bed. She leans back into the embrace, relishing the way her mother pulls her tightly into the hug as if their cells might converge in some sort of reverse mitosis. "I'll never be Rembrandt or anything but I like... I like losing myself in it."

"It's good," her mother tells her. "You need an outlet that's just yours."

Her cellphone rings on the bedside table and she grabs it before reading the name with a frown – it's her father. She turns to her mother and holds the now offensive object out to her. "Please... Mom. I can't... I can't talk to him. Not right now."

"Okay." Sara takes the phone from her and watches with a frown as she slips away to lay on the other side of the bed. As she slides the unlock across the screen, Nova curls onto her side and the sounds of Mogwai once again drown out the world that at the moment is too cruel to her little girl's sensibilities. "Hey," she greets the man just forty-eight hours ago she referred to as her husband. "It's me."

"Nova got there then," he asks.

"Yeah. Last night around eight," she tells him quietly. "She had a migraine last night and she woke up this morning having a bad sensory day so... She's not ready to talk, Griss."

"I doubt that has anything to do with her mood and more to do with how she hates me," Grissom tells her.

"Don't," Sara warns him. "Don't be petty about this. She's hurt, Gil. She thought all she had to do was get through high school and she could finally have the normal life that she's been begging for since she was old enough to talk." Her hand lays heavy on Nova's back and she hates the shaking she can feel in her daughter's chest, hates the sadness that is radiating through her silent sobs. She wants to take it all away, wants to curse her husband for breaking both their hearts, wants to curse herself for being unable to walk away from the job she loves for the man she loves.

"Do you think I like disappointing her," he asks and there's a weariness in his voice. She can imagine him on his lunch break between classes, staring out his office door at the beautiful campus with his fingers pinching at his nose. He adds quietly. "Do you think I like disappointing you?"

"Then why are we calling it quits," she asks him and quietly stands, moving to the hallway just in case her daughter can hear over the loud music. "Why can't we work through this?"

"Because it's not working," he tells her. "And neither of us are willing to bend."

"Griss... Gil..." She sighs, unsure of what to even call him. "I... I can't go and sit around Paris while you work at the university and I wait for a grant that I might never get to do work I'm not even sure I want to do when I love my job that I have here. And my friends that I have here. And our daughter who is here and wants her family. We could have a family like we always talked about if you just came home."

"Sara, I can't walk away from this job."

"Then you're walking away from your family," she tells him.

"I didn't call to fight," his voice quivers and she hates that, hates the way it pulls at her heartstrings. "When Nova's ready... I'd like her to come see me in Paris. No matter what goes on between the two of us, she's still the priority and I would like the chance to see my daughter."

"I'll let her know," Sara relents. "When she's ready."

"Of course."

They hang up without the pleasantries of goodbyes and tears pool in Sara's eyes as she makes her way back into her daughter's room to find the teenager sleeping. It reminds her of those early days in San Francisco when it was just the two of them – when they only saw Grissom on weekends when he could slip away from Vegas. Back when her baby was still a baby, all brand new, and the little girl slept like a log. Back when she'd cuddle into her mother's touch and on Sara's days off they rarely did more than snuggle in bed. Sara crawls across the bed and curls around her daughter, she can't stop her little girl's heart from breaking just like her own but she can make sure that she isn't alone in her pain. With firm touches, she wraps an arm around her daughter's waist and settles against her back. "I love you, Nova," she breathes into her ear as emotional exhaustion pulls her toward sleep. "I can only hope that it's enough."


End file.
